


Booty Call

by SeverinadeStrango



Category: Sengoku Basara
Genre: Akechi Mitsuhide is His Own Warning, Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Denial of Feelings, Explicit Sexual Content, Hero Worship, Implied Gang Violence, Implied Organized Crime, M/M, Oral Sex, Sex Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 13:17:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17387078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeverinadeStrango/pseuds/SeverinadeStrango
Summary: That's all it is.  Nothing more, and nothing less - or so Nobunaga tells himself.





	Booty Call

It wasn’t because he cared and it wasn’t because he hadn’t seen him in a week. It was because the bed was cold and Mitsuhide was willing and there was no reason not to, or so Nobunaga insisted on telling himself. Yet, here he was, gripping onto the sheets of the futon for dear life and grinding his teeth so hard that it was painful while Mitsuhide, his head nestled comfortably between his legs, showed him exactly how talented he was. 

Oh yes. Talented indeed. Mitsuhide was here of his own volition, of course – there was no payment involved, it was merely the two of them, here because they wanted to be here. So far he’d not come up for air even _once,_ and had it not been for the breathy, muffled sighs that escaped him every now and then Nobunaga would have been concerned that he’d actually foregone breathing. 

After many months of having Mitsuhide in his employment, he’d learned that it was useless to put anything past him.

Mitsuhide made some strange sound in the back of his throat, hollowing his cheek and swallowing Nobunaga’s shaft down _further_ if that was even possible at all, very nearly choking himself as his nails dug into Nobunaga’s thighs and he hissed, the combined pain and pleasure was near overwhelming in itself. Yes, he called him because they both enjoyed and near needed this – it wasn’t because his swollen, dark lips looked ever so appealing wrapped around his cock and it _definitely_ wasn’t because that flush across Mitsuhide’s cheekbones was almost, dare he say, endearing.

He thrust his hips forwards, mostly involuntarily, and Mitsuhide coughed, jerking away and rocking back on his heels, a thin string of saliva connecting the tip of his reddened cock to Mitsuhide’s lips and damn if that wasn’t the most arousing sight that Nobunaga had seen in absolute weeks – 

“Nobunaga-kou,” Mitsuhide gasped, and before he could even catch his breath he’d crawled forwards again and swallowed him down to the base as if his life depended on it and something twisted, deep, deep in Nobunaga’s gut. Let Mitsuhide never be in such a situation where his life would depend on it, despite his professed willingness to go out of his way to gather information, because when it came to the types of people that they were involved with, more often than not, clashes ended badly. And still Mitsuhide was determined to put himself through hell if it only _meant_ that he could be close – this close. 

Looking up at Nobunaga with huge, widened eyes, Mitsuhide released him, flicking the tongue over the head of his cock and drawing a hiss and a stifled groan, much to his satisfaction as Nobunaga fought to keep himself under control. No strings attached. Purely an arrangement of mutual benefit. Mitsuhide swallowed him down again, his tongue swirling around the shaft as he languidly moved his head up and down, humming low in the back of his throat and _god_ it was those torturous vibrations that sent Nobunaga over the edge, and he came harder than he had in months as Mitsuhide, determined as ever, swallowed it all down, gasping and falling back only once he had been _sure_ that he had drawn every last drop of pleasure from his Lord.

And there he was, sitting on shaking, folded legs, lips reddened and swollen, eyes watery. Sublime, all of it.

“Come here,” Nobunaga said after a while, and Mitsuhide, hesitating only for a second, crawled up onto the bed without a sound. 

“You don’t want me to leave?” His voice was barely a whisper, and even then it still remained scratchy and hoarse. “It’s late, Nobunaga-kou.”

“You may stay, Mitsuhide. For tonight.” 

That seemed to be pacifying enough, and he could see Mitsuhide’s entire body relax, even as the unresolved tension pooled deep in his own gut. He knew, clear as day, that it would not end here, and that this would not be the only night that he kept Mitsuhide in his bed, as docile as a sleeping kitten. But what harm, he thought, sliding under the blankets as well, could possibly come from this – a simple matter of mutual benefit.


End file.
